Cozied up with a few couch pillows and a shamefully large bowl of ice cream, I spent last Friday night alone with my MacBook Pro, excitedly working my way through a string of slam poetry videos. The last click of the night happened upon Sarah Kay’s performance of her original poem, “If I should have a daughter.” The poem eclipsed the challenges of growing up into a strong woman and a conscientious human. The piece was both a celebration of virtues and an ode to the strength of womanhood.

“She’s going to learn that this life will hit you hard in the face, wait for you to get back up just so it can kick you in the stomach,” Kay recited. “But getting the wind knocked out of you is the only way to remind your lungs how much they like the taste of air.”

The imagery forming in my mind began to shape into an uncomfortable permutation of a scene from Ralph Ellison’s novel Invisible Man. Ellison’s narrative, set during the Reconstruction, recounts the experience of an African American adolescent who is forced into a fighting ring, a spectacle enjoyed by wealthy White notables who Ellison describes as barbaric and animalistic.

I remember studying the Reconstruction era, discussing Modernist works like Ellison’s Invisible Man that called attention to racial inequality after the Civil War. In particular, we studied the seminal works of two charismatic, well-educated African American leaders: Booker T. Washington and W.E.B. Du Bois.

Booker T. Washington’s philosophy on racial equality was stunning. With restraint and poise, he pacified the whites by ensuring them of the harmlessness of blacks and placated the blacks by affirming the dignity in the menial jobs they were forced into.

In a few days, we flipped the pages to W.E.B Du Bois’ “Of Mr. Booker T. Washington and Others.” This African-American Reconstruction philosopher refused to compromise principle.

Du Bois criticized Washington’s philosophy as “becoming a gospel of Work and Money to such an extent as apparently almost completely to overshadow the higher aims of life.” Washington’s methods, he argued, were working against the cause by allowing social inequality to persist. He argued that immediate resistance was the more effective option.

Our English class split into two groups for a final debate: Booker T. Washington versus W.E.B. Du Bois. I waltzed over to the side in favor of Washington’s philosophy, arguing that compromise was the best way to achieve tangible results. A crusade of principle didn’t seem an effective way for poor former slaves to gain a foothold in society. Ultimately, I had decided that Du Bois’ approach was too ambitious, and therefore unreasonable.

The Reconstruction philosophy debate was a matter of déjà vu for me. The Washington-Du Bois conflict parallels the gender struggle Sarah Kay’s video reminded me of.

Unsurprisingly, I feel personally connected to the gender equality movement. The matter of Reconstruction philosophies dealt with an age-old issue—change in order to gain power versus power to effect change. Du Bois argued that asserting the principles of racial equality was the only way to achieve it. Washington argued that indulging the subjugators to gain an economic foothold would give African Americans the power to achieve their goal of equality.

I battled with this very conflict. As a woman, is it necessary to sacrifice my femininity to rise through the ranks, thus gaining the power to be a purveyor of change? Or rather, is it more effective to increase awareness of the issue in hopes of changing those millions of minds?

It’s hard to say which is more effective. History has been no guide, for neither Washington nor Du Bois achieved racial equality. But I can tell you which philosophy I find more satisfying.

Now, as someone passionate about social change, I would never think of crossing that table to side with Washington and his compromises. The cause of gender equality is too dear for me to compromise my femininity or social values.

The true lesson in paralleling the racial struggle and the gender struggle is a question of history’s value. Viewing the past is all a matter of interpretation. My eyes looked at Sarah Kay’s spoken word the same way they regarded the words of Reconstruction thinkers. The single difference was the immediacy of current events, as opposed to the distance between me and issues of the 1860s.

Proximity to the social issue has colored my perspective, but this color adds necessary depth, context, and humanity. In this sense, the difference between history and current events is the eyes that view it. The lenses we use to evaluate the past are corrective lenses, and therein lies the problem. Viewing the Reconstruction in parallel with the gender disparity has been more eye-opening than words on a page. Fundamentally, the truth is that we don’t need hindsight to be corrected to 20-20 in order to see the past as it was.